


Moonlight Berry Barrage

by onawingandaswear



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Sailor Moon AU, Soulmate AU, Warning for mentions of suicide, basically use the source material for Sailor Moon as your guide, magical girl au, reference to past character death, super self indulgent, this is entirely concurrent with canon except for the fact everyone moonlights as a superhero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onawingandaswear/pseuds/onawingandaswear
Summary: Eric Bittle has a checking problem, a magical alter ego, and a major crush on the masked man who keeps saving his butt. Basically, Bitty's Freshman year at Samwell is going to be epic if he can stay alive long enough to enjoy it.





	1. Chapter 1

“Never in my life have I hated a man more than Jack Zimmermann,” Bitty holds up Luna, who’s ears flop in sympathy. “4 am? Who is up that early?”

“He is a bit hard on you,” she agrees, little pink nose snuffling as she wriggles for Bitty to set her back down on the bed. “I’m just worried this checking practice business is going to interfere with our search for the _Prince_ ,” it shouldn’t be possible for a rabbit to look so unimpressed. Against his will, Bitty’s chin begins to wobble.

“It’s not my fault I have the captain from hell, and I’m supposed to save the world, or find some dumb prince —”

“Stop that.” Luna swats at his face with her little legs. “You’re Sailor Pie! You are the guardian of love and baked goods, and you’re sworn to protect Prince Serenity! If you lose your scholarship, you can’t fulfill your duties. Remember, Jack’s a jerk, but he’s trying to help you.”

“‘Big ol’ jerkface,” Bitty grumbles, easing her onto the bedspread. “But, you’re probably right.”

“I am right.”

“ _Probably_ right,” Bitty insists, flipping his Transformation Pen between his fingers. It’s 11:27. Almost time to start his patrol. “Can feel it. Something’s out there. Lord, I’m gonna be so tuckered out.”

___________

 

Perks of being a magical defender of love and light: cool costumes, powers, crazy experiences.

Downside of basically being a superhero: near constant threat of death.

_“C’mon you stupid stick — work!”_

Bitty dodges another blast of energy, ducking behind a tree to smack the Moon Wand against his palm, trying to spark a charge so he can finish this battle and get to bed. A loud roar sends Bitty scrambling, only to trip on a root and end up staring down the four-armed Nega-beast trying so earnestly to kill him.

 _“Give up, Sailor Pie,”_ it rasps. _“Accept your fate. Tell us the location of Silver Crys—”_ the monster cuts off, distracted by the single red rose embedded in ground between them. _“Uh._ ”

Bitty looks up, relieved to find Tuxedo Mask balanced on the top of a light post.

“Turning a sacred place of learning into a battlefield is an unforgivable outrage,” he announces, distracting the creature long enough Bitty can regroup. “Now, Sailor Pie, teach them the ABCs of justice!”

Bitty clasps the Moon Wand tight, ignoring the hotness of his ally (and the lameness of his declaration), to shout, “MOONLIGHT BERRY BARRAGE!”

The demon is dispatched in a flash of pink/gold light, the scent of fresh baked berry pie lingering in the night air.

“Yes! Got ‘em!” Bitty fist pumps and does a little celebratory dance, thoroughly enjoying another victory when a polite couch comes from above. Right. Handsome mystery hero. Bitty’s current crush and personal good luck charm.

“Tuxedo Mask.” Bitty recovers, finding his midnight defender is still on top of the pole, watching with what might be fondness. Bitty cranes his neck for far too long, waiting for the man to do literally anything, when his impatience gets the better of him and he shouts, “Well, come on down, then, or you just gonna’ pose all night long like a fancy statue.”

“I don’t ‘pose’,” Mask insists, leaping down to land silently beside Bitty. “Everything I do is calculated.”

“Calculated. What was going on with that ‘learning’ line?” Bitty teases, twirling his weapon between his fingers. “Didn’t you use that last month?”

“Look at you, chirping like a pro,” Tuxedo Mask plucks his rose from the ground and offers it to Bitty with a half-smile. “You try coming up with something inane enough to stop a demon in its tracks. You want better one-liners, stop getting into so many scraps.”

The use of ‘chirp’ has completely thrown off Bitty’s focus. Chirping is a hockey term, so Tuxedo Mask has to be a hockey player. Or, maybe he just knows hockey players. Bitty shakes out of his stupor.

“Joke’s on you, I’m just pretending to be terrible to lure you out of hiding,” Bitty holds eye contact as he takes the rose, batting his eyes. “You would not believe how much I love roses.”

“I’m sure I don’t. Goodnight, Sailor Pie,” Mask laughs, fisting a hand in his cape and leaping up onto a tree limb. “Enjoy the rose.”

“I want a kiss next time, you big flirt! And a whole bouquet!” Bitty shouts as Tuxedo Mask disappears. “Hell’s bells, there he goes. Again.” Is it so much to ask for a sweet, handsome boyfriend who also fights monsters in the dead of night? Is it? Speaking — Bitty waves off his costume and checks his phone, wincing at the time.

“Luna, kill me. I’m supposed to be up in an hour to meet Jack,” Bitty laments when she hops out of the bushes.

“You need to stop flirting with that man. We don’t know who he is; he could be anenemy!”

“Or he could be the prince we’re looking for,” Bitty scoops Luna up off the ground and starts back toward the dorms. He needs his skates and something in his stomach. “And if he’s trying to get rid of me, he’s doing a terrible job.”

_______

 

“Ice skating was a very popular pastime in the Moon Kingdom,” Luna hops after Bitty weaving between gear bags and abandoned skates. “It’s no surprise you have a natural talent. As a sworn guardian of Prince Serenity, you would have spent much time on the ice with him.”

“Wish I could remember it,” Bitty settles into his stall and begins loosening the laces on his skates. “Skating on the Moon. Living in a palace, knowing a real Prince? Only thing better would be _being_ a prince.”

“It’s very likely you were nobility. The Prince’s Court was largely comprised of other royal houses from different planets.”

“You’re throwin’ a lot at me, darlin’,” Bitty starts unpacking his pads. “Planets. Princes. Lets put a pin in all this until I’ve had a few winks, how about that?”

A distant bang has Bitty seizing up, immediately ready for another fight, but it soon registers as a door slamming. Probably Jack.

“Why don’t you head back to the Haus? I’ll find you later.”

Luna doesn’t answer, just starts hopping toward the door. Bitty finishes gearing up and pads his way to the ice, the lingering adrenaline making it difficult to enjoy the morning stillness.

Jack is waiting on the ice in his usual black jacket, eyes bright, like he’s been awake for hours. The man probably doesn’t sleep. Maybe he’s one of the Negaverse’s goons sent to ruin Bitty’s life — a new, unknown General. Even as Bitty contemplates such a wonderful reality, he looks at his captain, determined, disturbingly goal oriented, and he knows Jack’s too clueless to be a super villain.

“Bittle. Was beginning to think something had happened to you.”

“Just tired,” Bitty steps onto the ice and takes a lap, pretending he’s waking himself up. “Nothing nefarious.”

In short order, Bitty’s being shoved against the boards, bunched up into Jack’s personal space, fighting to stay upright. How is it he can fight monsters but he still can’t take a check easily.

“Stop,” Bitty pants, pushing Jack away. For a brief moment, he swears he can smell roses.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Jack acquiesces. “You’re getting better at powering through. Keep going like this you’ll be able to face down Chara.”

The sun is coming up. Peeking through the widows, reminding Bitty, again, that he hasn’t slept in over 24 hours.

“Yeah, no,” Bitty brushes ice from his knees. “That’ll be a cold day in hell.”

“Hey.” Jack rests a hand on Bitty’s padded shoulder, a look of what must be support on his disgustingly handsome face. “This is great progress. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Jack offers a lopsided smile, like he’s genuinely trying to be nice, and Bitty relents.

“Thank you. I’ve been working really hard,” he admits. “I’m real glad it’s showing.”

“Hard work always pays off,” Jack agrees, heading toward the gate. “C’mon. We don’t have practice this morning, I’ll take you to Annie’s. My treat.”

“Your treat?” Bitty chirps, momentarily forgetting he’s not Sailor Pie at the moment. “Trying to bribe me after assaulting me with a deadly weapon?”

Jack gives Bitty an assessing look, caught between surprise and amusement. “Did Shitty tell you to say that? Make a crack about my ass?”

He can’t help it, Bitty snorts and quickly covers his face to hide his laughter as he shakes his head no.

“You’ve got ten minutes or I’m downgrading you from latte to drip,” Jack’s threat is toothless if the wry smile on his face is anything to go by. “Hop to, Bittle.”

 

__________

 

Life goes on as normal, better than normal, because Jack’s finally chilling out, classes are getting easier, and Bitty’s crush on Tuxedo Mask starts to blossom into something far more tangible as they continue chirping, fighting, and flirting; until finally, one night, Tuxedo Mask stays close enough Bitty feels he’s being invited to touch. Bitty takes his chance, gives the man’s jacket a soft tug, pulling him down inch by inch until Bitty can gently press their lips together.

Bitty waits for the man to respond. Prays he doesn’t recoil in disgust or pull away angrily. And, no, Tuxedo Mask doesn’t pull away. Instead, he slides one hand into Bitty’s hair, holding them together as he brings up his arm to shield them from view with his cape. What was intended to be a chaste first kiss becomes a dance of cautious tongues, soft lips, and in the moment, Bitty could die a happy man.

“I have to go,” Tuxedo Mask apologizes when he finally pulls away, pressing a last peck to the corner of Bitty’s mouth. Then another. “I’ll see you again very soon. I promise.”

“Gonna hold you to that,” Bitty breathes, staring up into his partner’s pale blue eyes. “Maybe you could even swing by when I’m not in mortal danger.”

That gets a laugh, Mask ducking his head and nearly losing his hat. “I’ll do my best. Until next time, Sailor Pie.”

With a rush of wind, he’s gone. Disappearing into the night like Bitty’s hopes of going to bed early. Oh course, Luna is waiting. Wide eyed, like she’s ready to give Bitty a stern talking-to.

“Nope.” Bitty vanishes his costume, bypassing his guide, practically walking on air. “Not tonight.”

 

__________

 

Classes are normal. Practice is normal. They’re winning games, which is fantastic, and Bitty’s finally feeling like he has some control over his normal life. Bitty’s world is perfectly fine, you know, except for the fact he’s still dealing with murderous monsters and a mysterious paramour who only shows up when his life is in imminent danger.

On the plus side, Bitty’s midnight monster-slaying sessions are now being followed by increasingly enjoyable make-out sessions. Like tonight, for example. The dust has barely settled on their battle with a soul-stealing cat witch, and Bitty is perched on Tuxedo Mask’s lap, palming at the man like a rowdy teen.

“You were beautiful,” Mask nuzzles Bitty’s throat, clutching at his waist as Bitty slides off his hat. The mask stays on. Just like Bitty’s costume stays in place. They haven’t discussed boundaries, but they’ve found them all the same.

“Kiss me again,” Bitty orders, nudging Mask’s chin up. He’s so handsome. So familiar.

“Always.”

The stay in the park for a little while longer, until Bitty’s lips are swollen and his pants are getting uncomfortable (not that Mask needs to know about any of that just yet). Bitty wants this all the time. He wants Mask in his dorm room, wants him in the stands at games, Bitty just really, really wants a boyfriend.

“You’re strong enough to face down the General sending these things every night,” Mask offers before they part ways, straightening his hat, adjusting Bitty’s hair. “You know you are.”

“I’m not sure,” Bitty hesitates. The sentiment is kind, but their whole relationship has been predicated on Bitty’s ability to not-handle most situations. “I can barely use the attacks I want, when I want.”

“Hey.” Tuxedo Mask rests his hand on Bitty’s shoulder, comforting, sincere. “Sailor Pie, you can do this. I’ll be right there with you. Just like always.”

__________

 

So, fun fact, Bitty is actually _not_ strong enough to face Nephrite alone, and for once Tuxedo Mask, for whatever reason, does not seem to have Bitty’s back.

“Oh, poor Sailor Pie,” the General taunts, summoning shadow tendrils from nowhere and thoroughly screwing any attempt at Bitty getting the high ground. “Nowhere to run? Here, let me help —” Bitty finds himself upside-down being lifted and crushed by the dark energy. Unable to escape, with a growing dread that no lame, last-minute interruption could stop this.

No one should be in Faber this late. No one should be able to hear Bitty getting his ass handed to him by Nephrite. He’s going to die, and things only get worse when Ransom, Holster, Shitty, and Lardo come running in from the locker room, gawping at the scene.

“Fucking what — “

“Don’t you hurt him!”

“Sailor Pie! Hold on!” Lardo yells, throwing open the gate. “We’re coming!”

 _“_ Run,”Bitty chokes, grasping for the Moon Wand and any hope of breaking free. “Guys — run.”

 _“No escape,”_ Nephrite yells as the magical bonds trapping Bitty tighten. _“You’re too late.”_

“Don’t you hurt our frog you ugly fuck!” Holster shouts, enveloped in an orange-gold glow as he flashes the finger and shouts, “Venus Power, Make Up!”

Bitty’s vision is sparking but he’s still aware enough to see his orange clad teammate in a fighting pose when the light clears, fists raised and ready to rumble. “Listen up you Nega-dick, let go of him or, I, Sailor Venus, will rip your heart out through your dickhole in the name of love!”

_“Sailor . . . Venus . . .?”_

A flash of green, another of red, and one more of blue has Holster, flanked by three more scouts wearing familiar faces. They’re all wearing the same uniform, the compression suit, like Bitty’s, but Shitty is the odd-man out in a green skirt and knee high boots.

Lardo, in red, a tiara shining on her forehead, whips her arm out and yells, “The Soldier of flame and passion, I am Sailor Mars! Back the fuck off, bitch!”

Shitty steps up onto the bench, allowing Bitty to see his bare legs. He hasn’t shaved. “The Scout of courage and protection, Sailor Jupiter, is here to knock your fucking teeth in, bro!”

“With Water and Wisdom as my guides, Sailor Mercury will drown your chances of victory! Let him go!”

Ransom — Mercury —sounds good. Very official. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen, but all Bitty can think is, what does it say about him that he hasn’t been able to come up with a kick-ass one-liner introduction like _literally everyone else he knows._ Lord, he’s still going by Sailor Pie instead of Sailor Moon.

Darkness begins to creep at the edge of his vision as the others begin firing off elemental attacks. Then, head lolling, Bitty finally sees a flash of red in the rafters. Tuxedo Mask.

 _“You’re . . . late . . .”_ Bitty whispers.

“Sailor Pie!”

Everything goes black.

_____________

 

_“— knew it. I knew Bittle was special. No human could make pies that good.”_

_“Sailor Pie, man. I thought it was just Jack fucking with us again. You think there are more?”_

_“Enough. We need to let him rest.”_

Bitty clenches his eyes closed, the voices aggravating his splitting headache — all he wants in the world is to slip back into unconsciousness, but his two working brain cells start putting together the fact his secret identity isn’t a secret anymore, and his teammates know too much for him to play dumb.

_“You know you aren’t our Captain all the time. We should be here when wakes up. To explain.”_

“You’re so loud,” Bitty moans, trying to roll away from the noise only to be gently rocked back by large, familiar hands that coax him upright against his every silent wish. “Ow,” Bitty cracks his eyes open and finds Holster, Lardo, Shitty holed up in what appears to be Jack’s room, except there’s a familiar top hat and mask on the desk beside Jack’s calculus textbook.

There’s no way. This is a dream. A terrible trick.

“There he is,” Holster says, voice far too loud even as he’s trying to be gentle. “Thought you were toast for a minute, Bitty. Good thing Jack got there when he did or we might have lost you.”

“Not fast enough,” Jack curses from somewhere Bitty can’t see, and when he turns to look there’s no warning before a light is shining in Bitty’s eyes, making everything suck so much worse.

“Easy,” Ransom urges, his hand holding Bitty in place as he tries to get away. “You hit your head pretty hard.”

Bitty blink away, spots dancing in his vision, to find Jack hovering in the doorway, arms crossed, as stern as ever. Except, if Bitty wasn’t mildly concussed, he’d say his Captain looked almost upset. Guilty, even. (And now that Bitty knows Jack is probably pulling double duty as his secret not-boyfriend . . . hell’s bells.)

“It’s my fault,” Jack mutters, and Bitty knows a Zimmermann apology when he hears one. “I could have stopped this.”

“What’s with the selfless act, man? We were all there,” Ransom tucks away his penlight. “We were just as helpless as you.”

“It’s different for him,” Lardo says cryptically, giving Bitty’s foot a squeeze before rising to join Jack. “He has to be the fall guy on this one.”

“Can I have a few minutes alone with Jack?” Bitty asks. “Please?”

Though the go reluctantly, the room does clear, and Bitty is left with his overbearing, overdressed hockey captain, who is also, apparently, his midnight beau.

“So, it’s you?” Bitty tugs at a loose thread on the dark blue comforter trying to calm his racing heart.

“It’s me,” Jack agrees, knocking his heel against the floorboards. “And it’s you, too.”

“Was it all a game?” Bitty presses his palm to his temple as if the action will stop his head from throbbing as he slides off the bed. Jack’s bed. _Tuxedo Mask’s bed._ “The flirting? Pretending to care about me — Did you know he was _me_?”

“No.” Jack breathes, still as Bitty crosses the room to confront him. “Never. I didn’t pretend to do anything, and it wasn’t a game, I —” he swallows, forcing himself to look at Bitty like the act is painful. It probably is. “I had suspicions, but I couldn’t confirm anything. Not before tonight.”

“How do you feel? Knowing I’m . . . me?” Standing, Bitty can finally feel just how messed up he is. Everything aches. Even his hair.

Jack swallows, hand lifting as if all he wants is to touch, so Bitty obliges, leaning into his Captain’s personal space, allowing Jack to catch him. To hold him. Again, just like before.

“I don’t feel any different, you’re still you,” Jack whispers, cradling Bitty close, “ _Crisse_ , I told you to fight. You could have _died_.”

“But I didn’t.” Bitty whispers, wincing at his own voice. “I’m okay.”

The only response is a soft pressure against his scalp. A _kiss_. The sudden relief that floods him is better than any drug — Tuxedo Mask still likes him. Loves him, even. Now, maybe Jack can love Eric Bittle, too.

“You need to rest,” Jack holds Bitty steady, guiding him back to the bed. “The guys are going to keep watch while I take care of a few things with Hall and Murray.”

“You’ll come back, right?” Bitty eases under the covers, wincing. “We’re going to talk?”

“In the morning,” Jack promises, brushing the fringe out of Bitty’s eyes, expression unbearably fond. “When you feel better.”

The sheets smell like Jack. So does the pillow. It should be gross, but, Bitty kinda likes it. Before he knows it Jack is gone and everything is dark once more.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An out of sequence interlude with Jack, who is dealing with the whole Serenity/Endymion situation in typical Jack fashion.

“Tell the truth, brah,” Shitty blows a dense cloud Jack’s direction. “You’re only a history major because none of us can figure when the fuck there was an actual  _Earth Kingdom_ and it’s killing you _—_ spoiler alert, pre-historic means ‘before history’.”

“Where’s the proof?” Jack brushes away the smoke, which only serves to spread it around more. “How do we know this isn’t some mass delusion?”

Shitty holds up his free hand to display a bolt of electricity arcing between his thumb and pointer finger.

“You pulled a crystal the size of a golf ball out your chest not two months ago, which you then used to obliterate the evil molest-y demon queen trying to marry you, or whatever. Who cares if you can’t prove we all existed as royalty of mother-fucking _planets_ , we’re here now and we have magic powers. Shit, you’ve even got Serenity back, remember? The literal Ice Prince you’ve been dream chasing since you were old enough to have wet dreams, who turned out to be Sailor Pie, who _then_ turned out to be Bittle? Last few weeks been bonkers. Bon-kers,” Shitty flops against Jack’s bed with a dramatic huff, pulling double duty as a dragon with all the pot smoke. “How you doing with all that? The almost dying and finding your, you know, itty-bitty-baker soulmate?

“Right.” Jack breathes, sketching a moon beside a new defensive play. “Serenity. He’s . . .Bittle. Yeah.”

“Fuckin’ feel that. Remembering about Lards and me?” Shitty whistles. “Tragic shit.”

“Don’t remember my death,” Jack snaps his notebook shut and tosses it toward his desk. “Can’t forget his, though.” 

“We should call him over. A cuddle with your soulmate and your favorite General’ll take your mind off things,” Shitty pats Jack’s knee, before climbing on top of him and going limp. _“Sereni-Bitty,”_ he calls as Jack fights a losing battle against the man crushing him. _“Come smother your prince with love.”_

Jack relaxes, sinking against the mattress, and waits for Bittle to appear. When the door does creak open, Bitty’s wearing shorts and tank top, showing off far too much brused skin for Jack’s comfort. Another reminder that he wasn’t fast enough. Bittle was hurt because of him. Again.

“Bits,” Jack mumbles against the comforter. “Save me.”

Bittle smiles, not so wide as to pull at the healing split on his lip, crossing the threshold quickly to shove Shitty off Jack’s chest. “In the name of the Moon,” Bitty teases, getting his fingers into Shitty’s armpit. “Get off my boyfriend.”

“Ah ha,” Shitty jerks away, freeing Jack. “Get Jack off sounds like an order.”

“Go away, Shitty. That’s my job.” Bitty eases onto the bed and wiggles up against Jack’s side, face to face so they’re sharing the same breaths. “Saved you,” Bitty whispers, nudging his nose against Jack’s, the moment somehow made sweeter by Shitty’s rustling on the other side of the bed.

“Thanks, Bits,” Jack slides a ginger hand along Bittle’s waist, careful of his injuries. “Can always count on you.”

Bitty mumbles an embarrassed agreement and hides his face, tucking in closer. Jack maneuvers them both so he can get his arms around Bittle properly, also managing to give Shitty a gentle kick onto the floor, and counts his blessings. Shitty takes his queue and leave the room with a jaunty, disrespectful bow. “Your Highnesses.”

“Bye, Shits,”Jack groans, Bittle shaking with soft laughter beside him. “Close the door, please.”

They could have died. Again. For those brief hours where Beryl had held control of Jack’s body, Jack had played voyeur to his own terrible actions. If Holster hadn’t knocked him out, he could have killed someone. He could have killed Serenity.

Bittle.

Bits.

Sailor Pie.

Wait.

“You’re the Moon prince, right?” Jack whispers against Bitty’s hair. “Why do you go by Sailor Pie?”

“Didn’t completely grasp the alter ego thing and thought I had to hide it,” Bitty admits. “Created a secret identity for my secret identity; by the time I realized it wasn’t a problem to call myself Sailor Moon, you and the monsters were already using it . . . Didn’t feel much need to go back and change it.“

“Oh, so this is my fault.”

“Absolutely, Sugar,” Bitty breathes, knocking his knee against Jack’s. “Couldn’t well tell you I’d named myself with as much care as you’d use to pick a new email.”

Jack pulls back a touch as something begins to shine — the crescent moon birthmark on Bitty’s forehead glowing bright before fading to a soft gold. Jack feels a similar warmth between his brows and knows he’s displaying some symbol he’s long forgotten. One day he’ll grab a mirror.

“I love you,” Jack breathes, Bitty’s cowlick tickling his nose. “I’m sorry I was so hard on you.”

Bitty looks up, eyes kind and infinitely understanding. “If you carry any guilt, I share it twice over. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“No. I’m sorry,” Jack repeats, pressing his lips to the crescent as Endymion’s shame flows through him. “That we suffered. That I was cruel. I should have protected you. I was older, I knew the consequences if we were caught —”

“We were young,” Bitty interrupts gently. “Young, lovestruck kids who who didn’t understand what they were doing. We thought consequences were never seeing each other again; not your wannabe-wife summoning an undying evil to stage a coup.”

Jack ducks his head, overcome with millennia old guilt, pulling away from Bitty as if losing control of his own body. Bittle reaches up to fist his hand in Jack’s shirt, holding him steadfast.

_“Endymion, my love, come back to me.”_

Jack forces himself to meet Serenity’s unfailingly kind gaze. No, he’s not Endymion. He’s Jack. He has to be, because he’s Jack now. He can’t be both of them, it’s one or the other and . . .

“ _Serenity_ ,” Endymion pleads in a forgotten tongue. “ _Beloved. Forgive me._ ”

 _“I forgive you,”_ Serenity whispers, taking Jack’s face in his hands and peppering kisses over his brow. _“Do you forgive me?”_

 _“Yes,”_ Endymion sighs. _“Never blamed you.”_

_“Nor I, you. Does that not absolve us both? Let this end with us. We can rest now.”_

While Jack pulls Bitty back against him, its Serenity who captures his lips with an unambiguous kiss, heedless of his wounds. When they part, Jack can see that Bitty’s face is clear of bruising, his lips full and pink as the gold crescent begins to dull. His expression regal, loving, before shifting to gentle confusion as Serenity slips back to Bitty.

“Jack?”

“Hey, Bits,” Jack brushes his thumb over Bittle’s cheek. “Might be time to go out and rejoin society; what do you think? How’s _Annie’s_ sound?”

“I’d like that,” Bitty smiles. “Your treat.”

“My treat.” Jack agrees.


End file.
